Issue > Poetry

Alan Chazaro

Alan Chazaro is a public high school teacher pursuing his MFA in Writing at the University of San Francisco. He is the current Lawrence Ferlinghetti Fellow and a graduate of June Jordan's Poetry for the People program. As a first-generation Chicano, his work often examines the social and cultural complexities of being American. His poetry is forthcoming in Iron Horse Review, Huizache, BorderSenses and Bateau Press, among others.

Veracruz

Stuffed like luggage in Abuelo's old Ford, we clunk
over unpaved roads
toward a casita made of hay and centuries-old earth

where gardens ripen and brown cows graze
on fenceless pastures.

On the knuckle of mountains, we pull up
next to a house under construction, kicking up dust
and the hot smell of dung.

A crowd of chickens disperse
as Abuelo steps into the merciless heat
armed only with a faded cap from his military days.
My family follows, our California skin no match
for the Naolinco sun.

Sasha smiles, asks Mama who the casa belongs to.
Aldo declares himself future owner while
puffing on a cigar and pretending to be like Abuelo,
un chingon.